The self-made DJ is putting Viet-Czech energy on the global map—one continent, one crowd, one beat at a time.
As one of our 3 People to Watch for the View the VIBE Power 60 Summer 2025 cover, DCR Milda—born Hiep Nguyen, but known to fans simply as Milda—is the definition of a self-made star. The Vietnamese-Czech DJ, artist, and entrepreneur has become a force in Toronto’s nightlife and beyond, with viral clips, high-octane sets, and a global sound that fuses house, hip-hop, and heritage into something electric. In this exclusive feature, Milda opens up about his early struggles with identity and belonging, the grind behind his breakout moment, his transition from dancer to DJ, and his vision for building a global brand that’s rooted in culture, community, and purpose. If you’re looking for proof that resilience pays off—this is it.
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From small-town outsider to global soundmaker
It started with a $17 gig and a dream. Today, DCR Milda—better known as simply Milda—is headlining global stages, dropping genre-bending hits, and racking up millions of views across platforms. But his story didn’t begin in the limelight. It began in a small Czech city called Prostějov, shaped by struggle, solitude, and the relentless pursuit of purpose.
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Born in the Czech Republic to Vietnamese parents, Milda grew up caught between cultures. “Growing up, it was tough. There was bullying. People didn’t see me as one of them,” he says. At just five years old, he was sent to Vietnam to learn his mother tongue. By the time he returned at age 10, he no longer spoke Czech fluently. A local Czech family took him in during the week to help him learn, while weekends were spent with his Vietnamese parents—a dual identity that shaped him deeply.
During the week, life was structured—meals at the table, Czech prayers before eating, books and bedtimes. On weekends, it was floor-sitting family meals, Vietnamese chatter, and the aroma of home-cooked phở steaming through the house. “I felt like I was code-switching my entire childhood,” Milda reflects. “But now, I realize I was learning to navigate different worlds. That’s what I do with music now.”
He often felt like an outsider—too Vietnamese for Czech society, and too Czech when visiting Vietnam. But this liminal space would one day become his superpower: the ability to read a room, adapt, and make everyone feel seen.
The first pivot: from dancer to DJ
As a teenager, Milda turned to hip-hop freestyle dance as an outlet—a space where he could express himself without words. He competed at battles, studied movement, and dreamed of performing alongside superstars like Beyoncé. “I loved pressure. I loved the spotlight,” he says. His passion carried him all the way to the top 10 of the Czech version of America’s Got Talent at just 17.
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Behind the scenes, the experience was a whirlwind. “I remember waiting backstage with sweaty palms, surrounded by people way older than me. But once I stepped out there, it was like everything clicked.”
It was his grandmother who first recognized his potential beyond dance. Strict but supportive, she bought him a beginner DJ controller when she saw how much he was struggling to keep up with school and missed training. Milda began analyzing music the same way he studied choreography—by feeling it in his bones. “I didn’t start DJing to perform. I started to become a better dancer. But then it grew into something more.”
His dance career came to a halt after a motorbike accident in Vietnam injured his knee. Doctors warned that continuing to dance could cause lifelong damage. The injury left him immobilized for weeks—and devastated. “That moment broke me,” he admits. “But it also made me. I had to find a new way to move people.”
No plan B: hustling through Toronto
After finishing high school in Chatham, Ontario, Milda set his sights on Toronto—but not without a compromise. Coming from a traditional Vietnamese family, the arts were seen as a hobby, not a career. His parents insisted he return to Vietnam to study law or medicine. He struck a deal: if he could get accepted into a music school in Canada, he’d stay. If not, he’d follow their plan.
He applied to Harris Institute, a respected Toronto music college, and got accepted into both the music production and music business programs. His parents finally backed his dream.
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But arriving in Toronto wasn’t a smooth transition. On day one, he was scammed out of his rent money and left stranded at Pearson Airport with five suitcases and no keys. “I had no place to go. No one to call. It was just me,” he recalls.
He found temporary shelter in a friend’s cousin’s basement in King City, but it wasn’t glamorous—mice, mildew, cold floors. “I remember sleeping with my passport in my jacket just in case I had to get up and leave,” he says.
Despite it all, he pushed forward. His daily routine: attend class, eat on the subway, change in the washroom of a venue, then DJ a gig for exposure—often unpaid. “There were nights I walked home because I didn’t have enough for a ride. But I still showed up.”
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Finding his sound—and his why
Milda eventually found his rhythm as an open-format DJ—someone who could play across genres and cultures. “My sound is energy,” he says. “I can read a room in three songs.” He scans the crowd, notes the mix of people, and builds his set in real time. “It’s not about what I want to play. It’s about what the crowd needs to hear.”
His sets aren’t just music—they’re performances. Full-body experiences where Milda brings his dancer’s spirit behind the booth. “I sweat like crazy. I move. I give everything,” he says. “That’s why people come back. They feel the energy.”
Key moments in his early Toronto sets—like opening at Apartment 200, or a surprise late-night set at Coda—cemented his reputation. “That’s when people really started paying attention.”
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His breakout 2024 single, Put Down Your Weapon, showed the world that he wasn’t just a DJ—he was a storyteller. The track sampled Vietnamese melodies and touched on themes of identity, conflict, and unity. “That was a love letter to my culture and a call for peace,” he says.
He now works as an executive producer on most of his music, blending his global ear with handpicked collaborators to bring his vision to life. “I’m not just behind the decks. I’m behind the direction. I want everything I put out to feel like me.”
Beyond the booth: entrepreneur, visionary, community builder
While many artists used the pandemic to pause, Milda used it to pivot. Stuck in the Czech Republic during COVID lockdowns, he helped his family open a sushi and shisha restaurant called Yobi Asian Food. He approached it the same way he approaches everything: with discipline and full commitment.
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“I treated it like a job. Every day, I studied how to open a restaurant. What permits you need. How to train staff. I learned everything from scratch,” he says. Within months, he had a plan, partners, and a new business.
Today, Yobi is known locally for its fusion-style sushi, sleek aesthetic, and curated music playlists. “I wanted it to feel like a vibe—not just a restaurant,” he says. Milda’s younger brother now manages operations, and the family recently opened a second location in another Czech city.
Back in Canada, he launched More Sauce Music—his creative platform and label. But Milda sees it as more than just a record label. “It’s about curating culture. Whether that’s through events, visuals, or collaborations, More Sauce Music is about community and elevation.”
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He envisions a future where More Sauce Music partners with global festivals, hosts artist residencies, and supports youth through mentorship and grants. “This is bigger than me now,” he says.
After performing at one of Toronto’s underground PLAYGRND parties in 2023, Milda posted a casual clip to Instagram. Overnight, it exploded. “It took me 10 years to hit 10K followers. That one video brought me to 27K in 24 hours,” he says. “Everything changed.”
He now has over 160K followers, and his content gets 4–5 million impressions monthly. He’s played shows in Singapore, Ho Chi Minh, and Malaysia—where fans now sing his lyrics back to him. “I had a group fly in from India just to see me. That blew my mind.”
DCR Milda’s content strategy is tight. He uses automation tools to schedule four Instagram reels a day—two for followers, two for reach—and posts daily across TikTok, YouTube Shorts, and Facebook. “I’m not trying to go viral. I’m trying to go forever,” he says.
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Staying grounded in a fast-moving world
DCR Milda credits his mental strength to consistent self-care. “The biggest battle is the one in your head,” he says. His rituals include journaling, meditation, solo walks, and time away from the screen.
“I love people, but I also love my peace,” he adds. “You need the right circle. Not just hype men—real people who check you.” His best friend of 11 years, who he met during a dance battle, now lives with him in Toronto. Together, they push each other creatively and personally.
He’s a fan of cold plunges, late-night gym sessions, and weekend detoxes from his phone. “The work doesn’t scare me. Burning out does.”
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What’s next for DCR Milda?
Toronto is still home base, especially in the summer, when DCR Milda thrives on festival energy and Caribana heat. But for the winter, he has other plans. “I want to explore Latin America—Colombia, Mexico—and go deeper into Asia,” he says.
His next EP will feature global influences and layered vocals, blending house, afrobeat, and traditional Vietnamese instrumentation. “It’s like if Diplo, Bad Bunny, and DJ Snake had a baby raised in three countries,” he laughs.
He’s also looking into artist residencies, building branded events in new markets, and eventually launching his own festival under the More Sauce Music umbrella. “I want to curate moments—full experiences that live beyond the music.”
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DCR Milda’s advice to the next generation
He doesn’t sugarcoat the path. “It’s hard. It will break you. You’ll want to give up,” he says. “But don’t.”
“Don’t give up.”
DCR Milda, International DJ / Recording Artist
“Don’t give up. Success might be right around the corner. I was one video away from everything changing. Imagine if I had stopped.”
His rise is proof that it’s not about where you start—but how hard you’re willing to bet on yourself.
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Stay loud. Stay true. Stay moving.
Credits
Cover shoot shot by Nick Merzetti, produced and directed by Steven Branco, Hair and Makeup Lead by Angela Lee, Hair Styling by Duyen Huynh, Wardrobe Assistance by Sharad Mohan and gaffer/lighting by Juan Diego Delgado. Shot on location between the Park Hyatt Toronto’s Presidential Suite and Writers Room Bar. Special thanks to Jack Malcom Samedi and Jessica Bertolo, for their assistance on set.
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